


Hand-In-Hand

by Shinocchi



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Plot Devices, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Sappy, Ship Manifesto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11867298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinocchi/pseuds/Shinocchi
Summary: Four of Koujaku's confessions that had sealed Aoba to his life.Some things are better left unknown, but some words are meant to be said out loud. Regardless of unsaid feelings or pronounced confessions, both Koujaku and Aoba had come to the realization that nothing weighs more than being able to have each other by their side.A ship manifesto. Written in Koujaku's POV, a look into pre-canon, canon timeline, post-canon of the four resolutions Koujaku held towards Aoba across the the many decades they'd come to know each other.





	Hand-In-Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Koujaku! 19/08 is also a very special date for me because it marks my anniversary of writing stories for DMMd. This year would be the fourth year ever since I published my first fanfic, which, coincidentally, was also written for Koujaku's birthday :D
> 
> It has also come to my realization that I've never really written a proper ship manifesto for Koujaku/Aoba and hence, I deem this year the year which I could finally write this story for them.
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

He had no specific accomplishment that he desired to achieve from his life. The fact that he was born and raised in a broken family had given him the natural gratitude for every joyous moment he’d had the chance to encounter. He had his mother, a person whom he deemed a blessing of its own. He was torn from his family ever since he came to make sense of things that were happening around him. He’d never known of mainland as his home; if ever, Midorijima felt more like home than any other places he could’ve landed himself on.

Leaving mainland and settling down in Midorijima was a guilty chance for both him and his mother to start a new life in an environment that was completely new for them. Here, there’s no conflicts between families and no politics matters that he wanted no business with. Here in Midorijima, street fights and trivial arguments between children became a blissful routine he’d come to appreciate with time. In Midorijima, there’s peace, warmth, sunlight; there’s life.

He was never bothered by the fact that he never had a father; he’d always presumed that there’s no longer anyone in his life whom he could call his father. His mother was more than enough for him and he’d do anything make sure that his mother was happy. That’s why being in Midorijima was perfect for him.

But, when he thought that he’d be spending the rest of his life with his mother being his deep-rooted priority, life seemed to have better plans for him.

It was a week after they’d moved in that he found himself meeting another person whom he never thought would occupy his mind as much as his mother did. The small boy hid behind his grandmother, merely stealing glances at Koujaku when Koujaku did as much as trying to catch his gaze. He was noticeably timid, and perhaps, even fearful towards Koujaku. His mother chuckled at the sight of the small boy while the boy’s grandmother scratched the back of her head, apologizing for her grandson’s misbehavior. It didn’t seem like the boy was used to meeting new people.

Just like himself.

So, he thought, perhaps he could be the one to take the initiative then. Perhaps if he opens his door to another person, he’d be able to pull himself out of the pit of the murky world he was imprisoned in ever since he was born. With that resolution firmed in his mind, he took a step towards the boy, squatted to come to the same eye level as the boy, then broke into the brightest smile he could manage.

“Hello,” he said, voice clear, intention ever so.

Despite the boy still hiding most of his face behind his grandmother, he was sure that he had gained interest in him; the fact that he was staring so fixedly at him a decisive evident of its own.

They exchanged eye contact for a brief moment before he decided to make another move.

“My name is Koujaku,” Koujaku said, raising a hand, hoping that very gesture wasn’t scaring the boy instead. “Let’s be friends.”

When the boy finally stepped out of his grandmother’s shadow, he came to the realization that he knew this boy after all. It was the same boy whom he’d rescued from the playground just a few days ago when he was walking around Midorijima, and also the same boy to whom he’d mistaken as a girl. While he was caught in a trance, the boy took his hand and smiled at him.

His name was Seragaki Aoba, the boy whom Koujaku never thought would become a huge part of his life when they first made contact in this way.

Aoba looked and acted just like any other next-door boy Koujaku would expect him to be. He was timid, but across time, Koujaku had come to realize that the way he acted was more than just being timid. Rather, he was more scared than anything else; when he looked at Koujaku, Koujaku would often see a cautious shadow beneath his eyes that had told him enough of all the words he wanted to tell Koujaku but could never bring himself to say them out loud. It was a sentiment Koujaku shared so he’d always allow Aoba to take his time whenever he was speaking to him. Koujaku tried to do the talking at most times in an attempt to help him, and slowly but sure, his effort had bored its fruits. Aoba started to grin more, he spoke a tad more, and he’d always listen to what Koujaku says. Eventually, it was once when Koujaku’s mother told him about how Aoba had always been talking about Koujaku at home that he knew that he’d gotten Aoba to open up better to him.

Perhaps he was the same as well. He’d opened up to Aoba before he realized it himself. He’d never talked so much in his entire life, let alone smiling so much at someone else that’s not his mother. Aoba felt like a person he could trust; someone who would not betray him. Whenever Aoba was within his perimeter, he could instantly feel the vibe of reassurance as if it was the most natural thing ever.

Sure, he’d saved Aoba from the bullies when they first met. He might be Aoba’s hero, but little did Aoba know, _Aoba_ was his hero too -- one who had hauled him out of the abyss of hopelessness and one who had told him that he’s worthy of being happy.

 

* * *

  

“ _` You are more important than I could ever imagine. You were the one who’d told me that hope is possible, that there’s someone else who could see me in a way that’s nothing deceptive. Your sincerity is what that had saved me from the depth of my darkness and by that, I confess my lifelong hero status for you, for whenever and wherever you need me.` _”

 

“Thank you for taking care of Aoba.”

“It’s no problem, Tae-san, please leave it to me.”

He watched as Tae walk down the street, her back crouched slightly, a bag in one hand. Feeling a pull on the edge of his sleeve, he turned around, meeting Aoba’s eyes, who was staring waveringly at him.

“Don’t worry, Tae-san will be back soon. I’ll keep you company in the meantime,” Koujaku comforted as he patted Aoba on the head. With a mere nod, Aoba held onto Koujaku’s hand, as if trying to bring him into the house.

“Ah, okay, okay, let’s go in,” Koujaku chortled, following Aoba’s flow and stepping into the Seragaki’s household.

Tae was out for her usual meetup and seeing that she’d be returning late, she’d requested Koujaku to keep Aoba company for the night. Koujaku had agreed in no time, and before he knew it, they were now both in the house, sharing heat with hands cupping their hot bowls of soup as the sounds of roaring thunder resounded outside the window.

“Looks like it’s going to rain tonight,” Koujaku mumbled to himself, eyes fixed on the window. “Are you afraid of thunder?”

“I’m… not,” Aoba pouted, pulling a laughter out of Koujaku.

“Haha, of course, Aoba is a big boy, of course you won’t be afraid of something like that.”

Despite that, he caught sight of the slight shiver on Aoba’s small hands when he answered, pressed firmly around the glass material of his bowl as he riveted absent-mindedly into his soup. Reaching out, he clasped onto Aoba’s hand, an attempt to comfort him.

“I’m afraid of thunder, so you’ll keep me company, right?” he simpered.

Aoba was distracted for mere seconds before he broke into a bright grin.

“I’ll keep Koujaku company!” he said with a louder tone.

“I know I can always count on Aoba!” Koujaku laughed. In the next second, he found Aoba returning the clutch on his hand, warm palm pressed against his own, before finding Aoba grinning blithely at him.

“Eat,” was all Aoba said before he dug into his soup again, slurping loudly.

A comforted smile was pulled on his own face as he did as he was told, warmth spreading through his insides while he was at it.

For some reason, having Aoba by his side gave him the assurance he didn’t know he needed. Simply having to take care of someone, a person who depended on him in a way that’s not obliged by benefits. Aoba saw him as who he was, and perhaps Aoba was the only person who’d ever looked at him this way. That's perhaps why spending time with Aoba made him feel as if he was truly himself.

“Koujaku.”

Turning around, he found himself looking at Aoba’s almost-teary eyes in the midst of darkness. Thunderstorm could be heard outside the window as they lied together on the bed, snuggling for warmth.

“It’s okay,” Koujaku said instantly. “I’ll be here while we wait for Tae-san.”

He was expecting a nod, but what he’d gotten instead was Aoba shaking his head, then nuzzling closer towards him, small hand clutching firmer around Koujaku’s.

Without knowing what to do, Koujaku wrapped his arms around Aoba’s tiny body, having his face pressed against his chest as he sighed contentedly with closed eyes.

“My father…”

“Hmm?”

Aoba whispered what sounded like a sentence into Koujaku’s chest but thanks to the loud clamour of thunder that had just hit the glass at that precise moment, Koujaku wasn’t able to make out what exactly had Aoba just told him.

“My father,” Aoba repeated, pulling a small distance between them as he lifted his face to look at Koujaku. “...used to do this too.”

Aoba’s father? He knew nothing much about the Seragaki family. When they first met, all that he knew from the Seragakis were Aoba and Tae.

He knew nothing of Aoba’s parents. Now that Aoba had brought it up, he couldn’t help but ponder. Perhaps it was something Aoba never wanted to bring up -- very much like how he never wanted to talk about his father side of his family -- that he’d never really talked about it. But when Aoba initiated the topic, it didn’t sound like he was at all hesitant to speak about it. Instead, his voice was naturally pleasant, as if he was reminiscing a nostalgic memory.

“How’s Aoba’s father like?” Curiosity gotten the better of him, Koujaku couldn’t help but ask.

“He’s…” Aoba paused, as if trying to find his words. “...big.”

“Haha! I’d expect so,” Koujaku laughed.

Father… A word that’s so foreign to him, a word that only reminded him of nothing but some of the worst memories he ever had. He could never relate to how having a father feel like, nor could he tell if he ever had a father at all.

“He’s also kind, gentle,” Aoba’s words scattered into thin air, drowsiness thick in his tone. “Like Koujaku.”

Koujaku’s heart skipped a beat.

He’d never expected the very word to be bracketed with himself, let alone having someone to describe him to be alike with one’s father.

“I see,” was all he could manage before he embraced Aoba tighter, a small smile elevated from the corner of his lips. “That’s good to know.”

“Koujaku would stay with me, right?” Aoba’s voice became smaller with every passing second, as if he was speaking from his sleep. “...Koujaku wouldn’t… leave me, right?”

“Of course,” Koujaku said without a second thought. “I’ll be here with Aoba.”

A father was never something he thought he needed in his life. But if that father figure was something that Aoba could find comfort in, perhaps he wouldn’t mind being related to a father after all.

Just for this once.

 

* * *

 

It’s all for his mother. Yeah, that’s what he thought; that’s all that’s in his mind when he watched his mother pack their things, and all that he could do was stare as Aoba cried and cried and cried, stabbing him in the heart with every passing moment. There’s nothing he could tell Aoba; no words to comfort him. Everything he’d said to him in the past were thrown into void, every promise sounded like nothing but white lies.

It took him a long time and a huge ounce of his courage to pat Aoba on the head, right before he left, forcing a smile that’s so unlike him, and telling Aoba that he was one of the best things that had happened to him. He knew it’s too much for Aoba to understand, and definitely too much for Aoba to handle. Having known how Aoba had suffered from being separated with his parents weren’t doing him any good at all. He thought he’d be the person Aoba could rely on, like how he could his father. But, like his father, he left him, leaving him behind to cry.

It’s not something he could help. He tried to get rid of all the miasma that’s been haunting him ever since he returned to mainland by focusing on his mother. He did as what he was told, despite aggressively disagreeing with it. He should’ve already known about what would come for him when he stepped back into this place. So all that he could do was gritting his teeth and endured the pain when his skin was pierced and torn apart -- all out of his father’s order. With closed eyes, he attempted to shut his thoughts, giving no concern to whatever anyone was telling him when the tattoo master ruptured the layers of his skin, painting upon them with more layers of colours that didn’t belong to him.

He never wanted to be part of this family, let alone being a convenient tool.

“I’m sorry.”

How many days have passed? He can’t really tell. Days came, nights came, and they would all go and be replaced by each other before he knew it. He’d passed out several times, waking up to more pain with a foggy mind. Ever since he was forced to carry with him this emblem of his family -- ever since he was forced to have his skin tainted -- he felt as if his body no longer belonged to him. As if something was taking over him, eating him up from the inside, attempting to make him into someone he’s not. There were no emotions left within him; everything numbed, all the intense fear, hatred, anguish, anger, all had vanished before he knew it.

He was more alone than he thought he was. But this time, when he woke, he saw a familiar shadow, sitting by the side of his bed. He tried to lift a hand but to no avail. Pain cascaded through his body, almost causing him to pass out again.

“I’m sorry,” his mother repeated. He tried to shake his head this time, but two gestures had him stopping immediately, face twisted in pain.

“M-Mo...ther…”

“Koujaku.”

His mother’s hand was on his, delicate and soft, touching him in such a careful way as if afraid that she’d accidentally hurt him. She took his hand to her face and pressed his palm against her cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

He wanted to tell her that it’s fine, that nothing was her fault. But all that came out of his mouth were painful shrugs and lost words. He saw tears streaming down his mother’s cheek, knowing that he’d passed on a wrong message. He tried again, desperately; all he wanted was to tell his mother that he’s fine.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this. We shouldn’t have come back,” his mother continued, still apologizing.

But if they didn’t come back, it’d put his mother into a bad position. It wasn’t his mother’s selfishness for making a decision like this. It’s never his mother’s fault. And Koujaku knew perfectly well that whatever decision his mother had made was to protect him.

None of them had anticipated this pain, none of them would’ve wanted this imperishable mark to be crafted on Koujaku’s body.

None of them would’ve thought that being back this time meant turning Koujaku into someone he never wanted to be.

“Mo...ther…” he tried again, finally able to speak louder but that desperate effort had more tears tracing down his mother’s face.

He had never wanted to hug his mother _this_ much in his entire life.

The tattoos were almost completed and the nearer it was towards completion, the more he felt as if he was losing himself. There were days when he woke to simply staring blankly into void, his mind a piece of white, his conscious unfocused. He heard nothing, he couldn’t even remember if he’d ever eaten nor drank anything throughout this period.

There was only red in his eyes and all that he could smell was the scent of blood. A voice would often rang in his head but he couldn’t quite make out its speech, even though he was aware that his muscles and every inch of his skin were gaining a life of their own, a solid evidence of being taken over. With his conscious flickering in and out, on and off, he couldn’t make sense of anything at all and all that he could do was deluge himself in the familiar whiff of blood and the paralysis of existence.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. He didn’t know who he was anymore.

And, when he finally came back to himself, it dawned upon him that something had, indeed, taken over him -- something that had controlled his body when he passed out and using this very body to commit sins that would never allow him to turn back anymore.

He was standing in the sea of blood, a sword in his hand, corpses lying around him. There was no sign of life. He saw his mother in the midst of death, leaving him in a state of catalepsy. He didn’t know who he was anymore. He wanted nothing but to end everything -- if this monster was born because of him, then all that he needed to do was to eliminate this very existence of ‘him’ that he never knew.

He’d lost his mother. There’s nothing left in this world for him to live for. He’d lost the only reason he was still alive despite all the excruciating treatment and harsh obligations.

The tip of the blade cut through the skin of his abdomen, the sensation of it being cold and sharp. He could feel pain again but none of the physical pain he’d applied on himself was ever greater than the one that he was feeling in the core of his heart. Swallowing down his throat had him frowning his eyebrows in pain. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he was reminded of the moment when his mother had endlessly apologized to him.

He was reminded of how he’d never managed to tell his genuine thoughts to his mother, even until the very end.

He hated himself. There’s definitely something in him that had made him lose control but the one who’d killed his own mother was undeniably himself. It was this same pair of hands that had taken his mother’s life away from her. It was this same pair of hands which his mother had lovingly comforted when _he_ was in pain. It was this same pair of hands which had…

He remembered _him_ . _His_ bright smile when he held _his_ hand. _His_ gentle smile when he embraced _him_ during those nights when they needed company.

He remembered _him_.

If there’s one reason for why he should spare his own life…

If there’s one person who was waiting for him; for a hope that was never promised…

If there’s still hope at all for him, if there’s still a chance for him to compensate for all the faults he had done…

If… there’s still someone he needed to protect, to look after…

Then…

He lowered his blade, his grip loosened, having the sword to drop onto the floor with a boisterous clinking sound.

He cried; he’d never cried so hard in his entire life. With his knees on the floor, he let out his voice, alongside every suppressed agony that he’d been burying within him for the longest time.

All he wanted now was to see him again. That was all.

 

* * *

 

 

Being changed into someone he wasn’t took time, but it took a greater time for him to turn himself back into who he once was, despite having to carry along with him the burden of a lifetime. Now that no one was left in his family, his background would remain a mystery; he could live as a person who wasn’t physically restrained by his history and all that he needed to do was to break through the barrier that was his own mind.

Living as a sole person now with no bonds attached, Koujaku was a free man. He could shape his identity as how he liked it to be. If he was serious about starting over -- and above all, meeting Aoba again -- he would have to make sure that he didn’t bring along his anguish with him when they reunited.

He tried. He tried hard. He tried all that he could do to break himself off the many struggles and guilt that came with his inerasable sins.

There’s no other way for him to move forward. He was the one who’d chosen to live after all, so the least he could do was to hold responsibility for the weight of this life he’d selfishly given chance to live.

Years spent in mainland were years that he deemed as a training ground for him to get over himself. It was tenacious, challenge was an understatement, and every time he was to face any sort of hardship, he’d grit his teeth and remind himself over and over again of why this life was given to him out of mercy.

And finally, almost a decade has passed when he was ready to lead a new life again. Sometimes he couldn’t even recognize himself anymore. But what's more important was the fact that he had returned to a place which he deemed to be the real home for him.

Midorijima became his third chance to live a different life, and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity now that he'd finally made it back in one piece.

He wasn't at all surprised when Aoba ogled at him with wide eyes, stunned, at the doorway, witnessing Koujaku sitting on the dining table of his own house, being completely in awe.

“Are you really Koujaku?” was something Aoba had asked him when they were together, alone in Aoba's room, after Tae treated Koujaku to meals that he never thought he’d be able to taste again.

Koujaku laughed. Patting Aoba aggressively on the back, he said,

“Do I not look like the Koujaku you know?”

“I don’t mean it that way,” Aoba retorted with a pout, after having punched Koujaku lightly on the shoulder. “I mean, it’s been so long and besides…”

Koujaku knew perfectly well what’s the indication behind Aoba’s pause.

“I don’t know how to explain but… You’re Koujaku but there’s something different about you.”

Koujaku understood perfectly well why Aoba would feel such way too. Maybe this could be a right time to spill the beans to him.

Yet.

“Haha, of course I’d be different! It’s been almost ten years, no? We’ve both grown up. But you’re still the same though.”

“Are you trying to tell me that I didn’t grow at all?” Aoba scowled.

“No, of course not,” Koujaku responded with a teasing smirk. “But isn’t it good to stay the same sometimes? I’m glad you do, anyway. Nice to know that you do.”

He didn’t know what made him say the last part of his sentence. Aoba seemed confused too but Koujaku was quick to distract them by collapsing onto the bed, chortling as Aoba reprimanded him about having no manners and then, ultimately, lying by his side, with words rolling out of his mouth that were nothing but comforting to Koujaku.

“Welcome back, Koujaku. It’s nice to have you back.”

 

 ***

 

Midorijima had changed ever since he first left it. Despite still possessing its usual vibe, Midorijima had progressed. He was seeing all sorts of new things in every corner of the place, even things that he had never seen in mainland. He came to know about AllMate, then Rib, and Rhyme. He got to know about what had happened to the island when he was absent. Even though it’d be a challenge for him to fit in, he deemed it a chance for him to grow out of his comfort zone.

Perhaps he could start somewhere to familiarize himself with what people were doing here. When he was at Aoba’s place, he’d come across Ren, an AllMate Aoba was fond towards, and apparently something that was a necessity to many people living on this island.

Perhaps he could get one AllMate for himself to get his new life started then. Contemplating about ways to go around this, he sat on the bed in his newly rented apartment and stared out of the window, a cigarette clipped between his lips.

Since when did he start smoking? he considered. Ah, yeah, during that time in mainland when he made his way into being one with a group of delinquents for the mere intention to earn money so that he could return to Midorijima. He couldn’t quite get himself out of this habit ever since then. It was when he’s smoking that he could calm his mind, allowing him to think and allowing him to be indulged in his own personal space.

He took another breath on his cigarette. Blowing smoke out of his mouth, his gaze moved towards the scenery outside of the window. His room was on the third floor, so he’d gotten himself a good view of Midorijima. A huge tree grew right outside of his house, and on top of the tree sat a few sparrows, chirping and resting, minding their own business.

He released a small chuckle under his breath. How nice was it to be free of restraints? he wondered. Like the sparrows, they could come and leave anytime they wanted. They had wings that could bring them to places they wanted to go, they had the freedom Koujaku would never have.

He dimmed his cigarette, stretching noisily, scaring the sparrows away.

Sparrows, huh?

Perhaps he’d gotten an idea of what kind of AllMate he wanted now.

 

 

“Are you sure, mister?”

Koujaku perked a curious eyebrow.

“Is there a problem?”

“People nowadays would prefer bigger AllMates, you know? A sparrow is…”

He chuckled.

“Well, I guess so. But a small one is good, isn’t it? I could easily keep it and it’s convenient to bring around too.”

“If you take it as that way, I guess so…” the man blew smoke out of his mouth, turning his back towards Koujaku and headed into the back store of his shop, leaving Koujaku to glance around the space.

He’d headed to the nearest AllMate accessories shop he could locate early in the morning, walking in to find himself being overwhelmed by the various types of AllMates lining on the shelves. There are a variety of dogs and cats, even birds of all types. If he hadn’t been sure of what he wanted in the first place, he was certain that he’d be repulsed by all the options that were presented to him here.

“It’s still amusing to find a big guy like you wanting a small guy like him,” the man came back, a small box in his hand, mumbling with a cigarette between his lips. “Careful not to squash him when you’re not looking.”

He cackled at his own joke. Opening the box, he took out a delicately wrapped item for Koujaku to see before he peeled the wrapping layers apart, revealing what was hidden beneath it.

“I thought red might be your preference, correct me if I’m wrong,” the man said before he put the small sparrow AllMate on the table.

The AllMate stood, its eyes closed, still. Koujaku started off by brushing it tenderly on the top of its head, sketching a sleek line along its back and coming to pinch on the tip of its feathers on its tail.

Like what the man had said, it’s red in colour, with pint of white along its abdomen. There were black patches around his eyes, small beak tinier than the tip of Koujaku’s finger as he pushed against the pointed part of its beak, a trifling smile pulled on his face. He never considered himself as one who would prefer the colour of red; if any, it reminded him of the colour of blood and it’s probably even something that he never wanted to revisit.

But as he stroke the feathers on the AllMate’s wings, it dawned upon him that despite the appearance of such AllMate being not what he wanted, this reminder might be what he needed after all. The sea of blood, the red marks that were imprinted on him, lined with black stripes that were swirls that made him feel as if something was crawling on his skin. He could see himself very well in this AllMate and despite what the shop owner had told him about people preferring a bigger-type AllMate, he had a feeling that this sparrow might be just what he needed.

“So, what kind of traits do you want to give him?”

“Oh, I can do that?” Koujaku looked up, finding himself staring at a wide-eyed man.

“You sure are new to this, aren’t you?”

“I just got back,” Koujaku explained.

“And where you’re from doesn’t have AllMates?”

Koujaku shook his head with a bitter smile.

“I see. Well, you can give your AllMate personalities, yeah. Something like how friendly you want them to be, or how wary… those kind. You could alter it yourself later, of course, but I thought I could help you out with the basic first.”

“Thank you! That would help a lot,” Koujaku said. “Traits, huh?”

He wasn’t expecting much but he’d appreciate a companion that could tell him off whenever he was being reckless, a companion that could look out for him and who wouldn’t hesitate to judge him for the things he did. He’d known himself well enough to know that he had no control over his own thoughts anyway, so despite him supposed to be the AllMate’s master, he wouldn’t mind a raucous partner at the same time.

“Guess I’m looking for a strict one, a noisy one is fine too. Some noise is fine.”

Just so it could fill up the too-loud silence Koujaku tended to fall into when he let his thoughts saunter free.

“Alright,” was all the man said as he tinkered with the AllMate. “In the meantime, you could probably think about his name. He’s going to stay with you for long after all.”

He already had a name for him from the moment Koujaku set eyes on him.

 

Everything was progressing well in Midorijima. Despite his long absence, he managed to fit in in no time,. He’d come to know Mizuki, a man Aoba introduced to him and who seemed to be the closest to Aoba during Koujaku’s absence. And not only that, he’d come to know more about Rib, understanding from Mizuki’s standpoint and above all, having inspired by Mizuki to form his own team as well.

He never would’ve expected himself to lead a team but when he settled down in Benishigure’s base, watched as his team grew across time, and seeing how everything had come together and taking its own form that he felt a sense of belonging. Benishigure was like his family, something that he could resonate greatly with Mizuki.

But none of these attachments -- regardless of with his AllMate, Beni nor with Benishigure -- would ever compare to the attachment he felt with Aoba.

He was the most comfortable with Aoba, and Aoba certainly could tell. He’d kept Aoba within his sight as much as he could, the protectiveness he once held towards Aoba all the more pronounced even when Aoba was pretty much a grown up by now. Aoba had always told him off but it wasn’t something that he could help and eventually, Aoba finally came to the conclusion that there was no way he could stop Koujaku from being concerned about him and hence, letting him to do whatever he wanted.

It was like how he’d put it for Aoba -- not something he could help. Even though he’d tried to leave his past behind, there was no way he could forget how his impotence had costed him his mother.

It’s something he never wanted to happen ever again.

Consequently, when Aoba got himself into trouble, he was the first to plunge his head into it, finding himself being wary with literally everything and every person Aoba crossed path with. He’d do whatever Aoba wanted him to do and in return, all that he ever wanted was for Aoba to be safe and to get rid of threats that might endanger this peace he’d finally gotten his hands on.

He didn’t mind the slightest even when he was dragged into Aoba’s problems. Even when Aoba was obviously concerned when they found themselves in Platinum Jail, all that Koujaku could do was to watch his steps and ensure that nothing would come into the way to take Aoba away from him.

But the harder he was to grip onto something, the easier it seemed for it to slip out of his hands. He’d tried to grasp onto whatever hope he could put his hands on, but things that was never part of his consideration would always return to bite him on his lethal spot. And the reunion with one very man who’d taken everything away from him put him into a challenging spot, pushing him to the edge of his pent-up endurance limit all over again.

He could feel how he was slowly but surely losing himself all over again; all the things that he’d done to Aoba, and all the things that he didn’t were perpetually reminding him of the demons residing within him.

He thought he’d lose himself for real. But once again, Aoba pulled him back from the depth of despair when he was at the edge of submitting into the sweet temptation of his own demon, making him spill everything out and making him realize that that was the only way for him to relieve of the guilt within him.

“No matter what you say or do, you’re always the Koujaku I know,” Aoba told him with the bright grin Koujaku was already more than familiar with.

How many times have he been rescued by that smile? he wondered. How many times more does Aoba need to save him for him to finally get over himself? He felt pathetic, and above all, powerless, for not being able to be the hero Aoba deemed him to be.

Even so, Aoba accepted him when he wasn’t able to do so himself. Aoba saw him as who he believed him to be, in a way that’s never one that Koujaku had seen on himself.

Aoba saw things in him that he never thought he had.

It’s impossible to let Aoba out of his life at this point.

“We’re still good, right?”

There was a hint of insecurity in his voice when Aoba asked him that question. He felt woeful. What had he done to have Aoba feel this way? What did he need to do to make Aoba feel safe with him again? Did he have to ruin everything again to realize how much he’d been taking Aoba for granted?

So he responded with a bright grin of his own, tapping roughly on Aoba’s back as he said,

“We’ll always be good.”

As long as he’s with Aoba, there’d be nothing that would come in his way. As long as Aoba believed in him, he’d always be the person Aoba presumed him to be.

And in response, he’d accept Aoba no matter what he was to be.

Aoba was the reason why he was given this life again. And that should be a more than enough reason for Koujaku to stand up again and be the hero Aoba always thought he was.

 

* * *

  

“ _` The darkness that swells me from within would never be gone. Those are the epitome of guilt and sins that I would need to carry for the rest of my life. You saw through them. You weren’t afraid to call me out. You were there to witness the worst of me. And by that, I confess that your darkness is part of what had drawn me to you as well. So, let me accept you, as how you’d accept the darkness in me.` _”

 

To say that he’s perfectly fine after the incident in Platinum Jail was a huge lie to himself. He was repulsed by his past, by what came after. Everything felt like a dream. He’d wake up from nightmares on some nights, drenched in cold sweat, and feeling all confused over the reality he was in. Nothing was no longer wrong; he’d faced his biggest fear, he’d overcome it, peaceful days should be what were to take place next.

Or so he thought.

When he saw nothing but pitch-black in front of him, he knew that all his wishes to live a normal life was a one-sided wish after all. At the end of the day, whatever that was staying within him was simply ‘sleeping’ in him; it never disappeared, nor would it ever stop sending him mixed hints and reminders of who he had become.

He blinked a few times, trying to get used to the nausea in the gut of his stomach before he stood, immediately having to hold his pace when he noticed blood trickling all over his body. There was no pain and he was surrounded by the scent of thick rust. Every time when he was in this dream, he was all alone, stuck in what seemed to be a cell, standing on a sea of blood.

He deemed this as the part of himself that he was never able to forgive so he’d never tried to break himself free, merely sitting in one corner and looking around, waiting for the dream to end.

Alone.

That’s why, when he heard footsteps -- slow and exquisite -- nearing his cell, he straightened up, heart beating vehemently in his own ears as he watched shadow creeping closer and closer to where he was.

His breath was trapped in his chest when the person came to stand in front of the cell. It was a face he knew.

“A-Aoba…?”

‘Aoba’ chuckled sparsely, a voice that’s so unlike him, yet all his at the same time.

“Are you Aoba?” Koujaku stood, groveling towards the man, coming close enough to see the man’s face on clear view.

It was a face he knew, yet the way a small smirk was lifted on the corners of his lips, alongside the narrowing of his eyes when he met gaze with Koujaku was nothing of what Koujaku had ever seen on Aoba. Even his appearance was different -- he was so pale that his skin looked as if its transparent. Long, white hair hovered around his shoulders, stain of blood dirtied his white clothing, which he paid no mind to.

“You’re not Aoba,” he muttered under his breath.

“You’re right,” ‘Aoba’ said. “But not entirely.”

His voice was Aoba’s, yet just one octave lower. He propped close to Koujaku, staring acutely into Koujaku’s eyes, as if trying to make out his own reflection in Koujaku’s gaze.

“I’m Aoba, but not the Aoba you know,” he said in a whisper, hot breath hitting Koujaku on the face as he spoke.

“What do you mean? Did you do something to Aoba?” Koujaku raised his voice.

“Aoba, Aoba, Aoba,” ‘Aoba’ repeated in a singsong manner. “Always Aoba.”

Koujaku frowned. Even when they had the same face, this person acted nothing like him. He constantly felt as if he was playing a fool on him more than anything else.

“Answer me,” Koujaku’s voice became stern. “Who are you? And what did you do to Aoba?”

“Patience,” ‘Aoba’ raised a hand, elegantly tracing the outline of one of the cell bars, then sneaking his finger towards Koujaku to twirl his fingers teasingly around Koujaku’s hair. “You never changed, Koujaku.”

He knew his name. Koujaku wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know why and how did he come to know about his name.

“I told you, I’m Aoba, just not the Aoba you know. How much of ‘Aoba’ do you really know, anyway?”

He was definitely trying to falter his thoughts. And Koujaku wasn’t going to fall for it.

“I might not know all of Aoba, but I know enough of him to tell that you are not what he’d see himself as.”

“Heh?” Aoba flicked a mocking sideway glance at Koujaku’s direction.

“And even if he has a different side to him,” Koujaku continued, as if trying to remind himself all over again. “I’d accept him.”

“Even when he’s like me?” ‘Aoba’’s voice dropped into a heated whisper again. He took a few strands of Koujaku’s hair into his hands, making them slip through the gaps of his fingers, then deviated his hand to Koujaku’s torso, touching on his tattoos instead.

“Maybe, just like you, there’s one side of Aoba that’s a monster of his own,” ‘Aoba’ said in a flat tone. “Sleeping, just waiting to come out one day. Maybe Aoba doesn’t know it himself, maybe…” ‘Aoba’ paused, hand sneaking up to wrap around Koujaku’s neck. “... _I_ am that monster in Aoba.”

The man’s cold skin pressed against his warm flesh. Nails dug into his neck, drawing blood. He could see himself in the man’s eyes, which reflected of nothing but dark and cold. He could see everything that was nothing of what he’d see from the Aoba he knew.

Yet.

“Even so, I’d accept you. Like how Aoba had accepted me, even the monster in me. If this so-called monster is Aoba, then you’re Aoba too, right? Then I’d accept you too.”

‘Aoba’’s facial expression changed a tad, as if he was pondering, before he drew his hand back, fingertip pushed into his mouth so that he could suck on the fresh blood he’d drawn from Koujaku’s skin.

“There’s monster in every one of us,” he said in a hushed rumble. “But, you know…”

He took a few steps back, turning his back towards Koujaku, and was about to leave before he looked over his shoulder, the smirk he’d been wearing since a while ago lifted higher.

“...Perhaps it’d be fun to have a monster by your side, don’t you think?”

He woke up with a start. His heart thumped so hard beneath his chest it was painful. Sweat damped his body as he swallowed down his throat, trying to make sense of the situation he was in now. Closing his eyes, he attempted to remember what had happened before his memory was interrupted -- the scent of blood, piece of black, then white. And a person…

_Aoba_.

He opened his eyes just in time to feel Aoba encircling his arm around his waist. Visibly still sleepy, Aoba looked up at him with dazed eyes, small yawn escaped his lips as he sat up, coming closer to scrutinize Koujaku’s face.

“Nightmare again?” he asked through groggy voice.

“Sorry for waking you up,” Koujaku said with a smile, his hand ruffling on Aoba’s hair. “Go back to sleep.”

Aoba, however, clung onto Koujaku, his face pressed against the crook of his neck as he muttered dazedly.

“Fine…”

“Aoba…”

“Go back to sleep,” Aoba repeated his words. “I’ll… sleep if you do.”

Koujaku released a small sigh, alongside a bitter smile. This wasn’t the first time he’d woke up to Aoba having to comfort him back to sleep and regardless of how many times Aoba was to tell him that he didn’t mind at all, he still felt bad for making Aoba go through the fatigue he had to handle by himself.

It’s one of the things that’d worried him when Aoba moved in a month back. Apart from having to get used to each other all over again, this was one of the parts which he hoped Aoba had never needed to see of him. It wasn’t something he could help and he’d wished to overcome it before Aoba had to worry for him.

But perhaps, it wasn’t something that was meant to be overcome after all. He’d probably need to face this for the rest of his life and perhaps… Aoba had come to know about this better than he did.

He hugged Aoba closer, all the while caressing him on the hair.

“I see you really like my hair,” Aoba said, looking up just to send a pout at Koujaku’s direction.

“It’s a habit, can’t help it,” Koujaku chuckled. He was about to comb Aoba’s hair with his fingers when Aoba took his hand away from his head, intertwining their fingers together instead as he brought Koujaku’s hand close to his mouth.

“What’s the nightmare?” Aoba asked. He seemed to be more awake than he was just now, voice no longer dopey, eyes no longer shrouded.

“Hmm,” Koujaku considered. A hard nudge on his rib had him coughing before he found himself staring at a frowning Aoba.

“No hiding things from me,” Aoba reminded.

It was a promise they’d made with each other -- that no matter what was to happen, they’d share everything with each other and that they’d support each other throughout the process.

“But if you’re not ready, it’s fine too. I’ll wait until you’re ready to spill it to me,” Aoba hastily continued.

It was as if Aoba had seen through him, better than Koujaku could ever do himself.

“It’s not that,” Koujaku explained. “It’s just that… I have no idea what it was about myself.”

“Huh? You can’t remember?” Aoba asked.

“Something like that. I do remember some things, though. But I never understand what they mean.”

“You tremble in your sleep, Koujaku,” Aoba reiterated. Lifting himself up, he came to sit in front of Koujaku, settling himself right in between Koujaku’s legs. “That’s not something to be taken lightly at all. Has it always been the same dream? Something from… your past?”

Koujaku wrapped his arms around Aoba’s waist, having him to come closer.

“Not from my past but… some resemblances of it, I guess? There was a lot of blood, I’m alone, and…”

He stopped, a thin frown lined in between his eyebrows.

“And?”

“You were there.”

“Me?” Aoba’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, but it’s not really you. It’s something like…”

“A different me?” Aoba said, trying to help Koujaku out.

“...Different, yet similar. It’s like, a you that I never know.”

“Huh?” Aoba tilted his head, questions written all over his face.

Without saying anything, Koujaku pulled Aoba over and buried his face in his shoulder.

The dream seemed to have come back to him, the image of red blood and ‘Aoba’’s smirk, apace with his words, reflected clearly in his head as he tried as hard as he could to catch every ounce of detail he could remember.

“Koujaku?”

Aoba’s hand was on the back of his head, patting gently, his other hand encircled around his back, caressing his shoulder blade.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he comforted. “If there’s anything I can do to help… Anything at all.”

His words sounded like nothing but a soft plead.

Feeling the squeeze in his heart, Koujaku parted their embrace and brought their faces together, pecking Aoba delicately on the forehead then all the way down the bridge of his nose and finally landing an airy kiss on Aoba’s lips.

“There’s something you can do, sure,” he lifted a smile. The way Aoba staved off his eyes told him enough of how much Aoba already knew what he implied.

Just being able to feel Aoba like this, just being able to acknowledge his existence, and just knowing that his presence was not an illusion; all of these were enough for Koujaku to get over himself.

Aoba was no lie -- Aoba was right here, in his very arms. Regardless of what he saw and heard in his dream, none of those mattered to what he could genuinely feel at this very moment.

Aoba’s lips were soft, very unlike the impression Koujaku had always held against him. He still knew of Aoba as the strongest person he’d ever met, perhaps even more than himself, but there were times when he would simply indulge in this side of Aoba, who would entrust himself to Koujaku, believing that Koujaku was the right person for him, and hence giving Koujaku the inadvertent consolation he needed. Thanks to Aoba, Koujaku had come to know about things about himself that he’d never known. Because of Aoba, Koujaku had come to accept himself better across the years, finally being able to recognize himself as who he was and delving deeper into his own potential at the same time.

The deeper his kiss was, the more intense Aoba’s emotions were to him. It’s as if Aoba’s feelings were melting into him, mixing with his own and making them a thicker emotion than it already was. Every ounce of his nerve was on fire, challenging the limit of his endurance and what’s left for the both of them were merely an embodiment of lust as they engulfed each other into their pace, moving entirely based on instinct. They’d learned to talk to each other about what they needed from each other, but there were times when their emotions got the best of them as they ended up merely guessing each other’s intention and letting their bodies do most of the talking.

Today was one of those days.

It didn’t take long for Koujaku to find himself hovering over Aoba, his body still sticky with cold sweat from before, mingling with fresh layers that were emanated from his newfangled desire. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, getting rid of sweat before it could drip on Aoba before finding Aoba gripping onto his hand upon that action, stopping him.

“It’s fine,” Aoba said with a smile, eyes disoriented with unmistakable want and voice hoarse with restrained need.

Koujaku stifled a faint chuckle. He’s doing it again -- that thing where he minded too much of how others feel, having his body to act before he could think for himself.

He leaned downwards, kissing Aoba on the forehead, hands cupping on both sides of Aoba’s face.

“Thank you,” he said, before he clasped his lips against Aoba’s all over again.

What would he do without Aoba? he wondered. If Aoba hadn’t been seeing through him better than he did, he may never discover how exactly a person he was in the first place.

Making love with Aoba had always felt like a sacred act for Koujaku. It’s as if that very act was giving him a chance to appreciate Aoba all over again, although he’d always felt more like an opportunity to worship Aoba, body or soul.

He loved every part of Aoba, from the fair skin of his body, to the thin sheen of sweat coating across his rosy flesh, and to the choked voice he let out when Koujaku delved into a teasing point. Every reaction Aoba gave him was fresh to him; it was never something he’d ever envisioned and he even felt grateful for being able to witness Aoba in this state --

\-- a state that belonged to him and no one else.

That very reminder sent chills down his spine, but also sending a different sort of intensity down south. He kissed along Aoba’s neck, feeling Aoba’s slight tremble under his touch and proceeded to suck on Aoba’s throat. He had his hands on Aoba’s waist, holding him in place as he looked up and catching sight of Aoba with his eyes shut tight, one hand over his mouth, stifling his voice.

“Aoba,” he called through gravelly voice. “Let me hear your voice.”

“Y-you…” Aoba gupled back a moan when Koujaku moved his hands downwards, reaching his crotch. “You’ve heard it… many times, didn’t… you?”

“I still want to listen to it,” Koujaku said. He planted fleeting kisses along Aoba’s torso, carefully yet reverently tracing on the lines of his ribcage with his lips before he stopped where Aoba’s standing erection was.

Noticing him halting his action, Aoba sat up a tad, enough to meet Koujaku’s fiery gaze.

“W-what…” he mumbled.

But all Koujaku did was smiling at him before he placed a hand on Aoba’s dick, then starting to slowly rub against it.

Out of instinct, the back of Aoba’s hand was back on his mouth again, repressing one more slipped moan, and this time, Koujaku acted quicker as he clutched onto Aoba’s arm with his free hand, pulling his hand away.

“Koujaku!” Aoba shrieked, eyes widened, the blush on his face darker than before.

“It’s fine, Aoba, it’s only me,” Koujaku comforted, hand still not resting on the motion on Aoba’s dick, eyes still not leaving Aoba’s face.

“It’s…” Aoba looked away, words scattered into thin air. “It’s… because of you that it’s embarrassing.”

His heart skipped a beat. Swallowing down his throat, Koujaku took a deep breath before he closed his eyes, attempting to calm his heartbeats down.

How and why did everything Aoba do enticed him so much? Aoba literally did not need to do much. Every action, every response, and every word he said did things to Koujaku in ways Koujaku couldn’t foresee. Pushing himself towards Aoba, he kissed him, and this time, it was no longer the patient, slow kiss they’d shared earlier. It was deep, rough and wet; a clear indication of impatience and intense need.

His hand’s motion quickened, Koujaku pushed Aoba towards his limit, not giving him any break, and only stopped when Aoba had his nails dug into his shoulders, his teeth biting on Koujaku’s lip.

“I’m… going to…!” Aoba breathed a dishevelled expression.

Still breathing heavily, Koujaku hoisted himself off Aoba, hand finally releasing Aoba’s dick as he raised it up for the both of them to see. The glaze of body liquid that was Aoba’s precum glimmered weakly under the moonlight smearing into the room through opened window. His heartbeats were going out of control, there’s no way he could stop himself.

There’s no way he could stop loving Aoba.

“Aoba, can I?” Koujaku asked, two fingers rubbing against each other, the slippery of the liquid on his hand making his motion frictionless.

“You don’t need to ask me this kind of question,” Aoba said under his breath.

“I wouldn’t know if you don’t tell me.”

It’s always the same dialogue, always the same approach. No matter how many times Aoba was to tell him that he could do whatever he wanted, there was still this hurdle within Koujaku that would stop him from doing exactly so. Perhaps it’s a bad habit of his, or perhaps he was just too afraid that he’d hurt Aoba accidentally. But it’s definitely something that he couldn’t help.

He couldn’t tolerate the thought of hurting Aoba more than he already did.

“Yeah,” Aoba responded in long last. He’d probably noticed the conflict in Koujaku. And, as if to emphasize his point, Aoba spread his legs, hands grasping onto the edges of his pillow, then continued. “I want to feel you too, Koujaku.”

It was as if that very monster within him was about to explode and reemerge simply just from Aoba’s words. He felt himself at the verge of being blinded by his own desire and, to contain himself from losing himself all over again, he quickly pressed a finger against Aoba’s hole, pushing in smoothly, wringing a truncated moan out of Aoba.

“Are you okay?” he hurriedly ask.

“Fine, just… do what you need to do,” Aoba gritted his words out as he bit on his lower lip.

He’d always reprimanded Koujaku for his slow preparation process, even more so when he clearly knew that Koujaku had needs greater than himself. But regardless of what Koujaku did, he’d always let him, put up with him, and allowing him to take things on his own pace.

It was when Koujaku finally had his dick rubbing against his hole that he opened his eyes again. Hands leaving where he was gripping, he brushed his fingers against Koujaku’s bangs, revealing the tattoo on his face.

“What is it?” Koujaku asked, puzzled.

Aoba let out a light giggle.

“Nothing,” he said with a tender smile, one finger tracing the black swirls of pattern on Koujaku’s face. “Just wondering how beautiful a man you are.”

Koujaku laughed lowly. “You’re talking about yourself, aren’t you?”

“No way,” Aoba grinned. “Your scars. They are what make you beautiful.”

Instead of words, Koujaku responded by pushing himself into Aoba with one thrust that hit him right in the hilt. Aoba arched his back, his hand that was on Koujaku’s face grasped onto his shoulder instead.

He could no longer tell if the water on his face was his sweat or his tears, all that he knew was that a suffocating sort of emotion was paralyzing him from the inside. It’s making it hard for him to breathe but yet, he didn’t want to stop feeling this way. Even if it will tear him apart from the inside, he wanted to know that everything -- pain, physical or emotional -- that he was feeling was real and was not another nightmare that he had to go through just to have him waking up being alone in the sea of blood again.

“Koujaku, too-- ah!”

“Aoba,” Koujaku groaned. He clamped onto Aoba’s chin, turning his face over and plunged a kiss into his mouth again, his thrusting all the more aggressive, all the more intense.

He was pushing Aoba to the edge and he knew he was no better himself. Their hands clasped against each other, their fingers intertwined as they bartered moans, swallowing down each other’s emotions and making them their own.

At this very moment, all that Koujaku could feel was gratification that was almost surreal. He held Aoba’s hand as they came down from the ecstasy, having it to press against his chest, just so he could feel Aoba’s hand against his heart.

This very hand… one that he’d held onto ever since forever. Holding it like this gave him comfort, telling him loud and clear that Aoba was right here with him, that Aoba was no dream nor illusion, and that whatever Aoba turned out to be, he’d always accept him as who he was.

Like what he’d told the ‘other Aoba’ when they met in his dream.

If he needed to prove his resolution, he’d do it without a second thought.

Just that, he never thought he’d need to do it again. For real.

 

* * *

  

“ _` You told me that it’s fine to have different sides to a person, that it’s simply a way for a person to adapt to their surrounding, a way many use to defend themselves. And now, I want to return what you said to me back at you, by confessing that your many sides are what make you you too. I am attracted to you, and regardless of how many times I’d need to do it, I’ll make sure to tell you that I love you -- you, and the other you.` _”

 

It’s as if the monster in him was giving him a challenge; it’s as if it was anticipating how Koujaku would fail his words and eventually return to being the monster he really was.

This Aoba held a vibe that was very similar to the one he’d met before, in the cell. The only difference was that, there was no sinister vibe that Koujaku could feel from him. He could sense the similarity with the Aoba he knew rather quickly, but yet, there’s still some sort of difference that he could tell from this Aoba that told him enough that this might be yet another side of Aoba he’d never come to know.

But this time, he was ready.

If he couldn’t take Aoba at his worst like how Aoba had taken him, then he truly didn’t deserve Aoba at his best.

He wasn’t in a cell, nor was he in a sea of blood. He was in his own room, one that’s his familiar zone. ‘Aoba’ was sitting on his body as he lied on his own bed, staring up at him. His expression told him that this wasn’t the Aoba he knew and with prior experience, he already knew how to handle the situation so he merely stared, waiting for the other to break the ice.

“You aren’t surprised.”

Even his voice was one octave lower.

“I was expecting it,” he said, honest.

A small smirk lifted on the corners of ‘Aoba’s lips. He leaned forward, bringing their faces so close that Koujaku could see his own reflection in ‘Aoba’’s eyes. Now that he looked at it, it was a brighter shade of the light-brown he was used to see on Aoba, almost golden.

“So you’ve met the others as well,” ‘Aoba’ muttered, his breath clouted against Koujaku’s face, sending goosebumps all over his body.

“‘The other’?” Koujaku reflected. Did he mean the other Aoba that he’d met in the cell? It’s been a long time since that dream, though. Two years, maybe? Besides, now that he and Aoba had finally settled down, there’s nothing else that could dither his determination.

Not even when it was Aoba himself.

“It doesn’t matter,” Aoba pulled their distance apart. “That Aoba isn’t the same as me.”

“So what do you want with me?” Koujaku went straight to the point.

“You know what I want with you.” The smirk back on Aoba’s face, he sketched a finger under Koujaku’s chin, lifting it up so that they’re boring into each other’s eyes.

“Is this about Aoba?”

“It’s only always about Aoba.”

Koujaku grimaced. The more he interacted with this Aoba, the more he got confused.

“This is the first time we talk like this, I suppose? Aoba is clearly taking his own sweet time breaking the news to you so I thought perhaps I could help him out,” Aoba went back to sitting on Koujaku’s stomach, still with a taunting light in his eyes.

“What news?” Koujaku asked, words stuck in his throat.

Aoba narrowed his eyes.

“That I exist in him.”

Koujaku hitched a breath. Aoba knew perfectly well of the monster living in him but he never knew about any other existence that was present in Aoba. More importantly, what was it that was stopping Aoba from telling him?

“He probably doesn’t know it himself,” Aoba continued, as if reading Koujaku’s mind.

“What do you mean by… being in him?”

“Before that, I remember you saying things like you wouldn’t mind even when Aoba is never a person like who you think he is, right?”

“Are you telling me that you know everything of what me and Aoba speak… and do with each other?”

Aoba’s smirk turned higher.

“What do you think?”

Koujaku swallowed down his throat. Now that the truth is properly sinking into him, it was kind of unsettling to know that another pair of eyes had been looking at everything they did… without their knowledge.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m someone else. I’m Aoba too, you know?”

“Even if you say so…” Koujaku rumbled.

“Anyway, you haven’t answered my question. Are you really that accepting?”

He tried to remember what Aoba was referring to. He was sure that he’d mentioned to Aoba multiple times about how he wouldn’t have minded even though Aoba was a different person with a different personality that’s a total opposite of how Aoba used to present himself. Perhaps Aoba was asking him in general?

“That time when we went back to mainland,” Aoba started speaking, casually yet discreetly. “In the hotel, you said you wouldn’t have minded even if Aoba is aggressive and violent and unreasonable and--”

Koujaku slanted towards him without waiting for Aoba to finish his words. Wolfing his words down by pressing his lips against Aoba’s, he brought him closer by pulling on his waist. Aoba pushed him away by instinct but Koujaku deepened his kiss instead, having no intention whatsoever to let him go. Eventually, Aoba loosened up and let Koujaku’s tongue into his mouth, delighting himself in the kiss and having Koujaku to take lead on their pace.

“You’re definitely Aoba,” Koujaku snickered as they separated their kiss.

“You could tell that with a kiss, huh? Not bad.”

“It’s Aoba, of course I could tell,” Koujaku retorted. Wiping the saliva off the corner of Aoba’s lips, he pecked him on the cheek. “And I’m serious about what I said. Aoba accepted me for who I am too. Besides, I love Aoba for him being Aoba, not for what or who Aoba is.”

Aoba looked away, a gesture that Koujaku was more than familiar with. The bewilderment from before gradually dispersing, he soon realized how similar this Aoba was to the Aoba he knew, despite his hard-hitting attitude.

“I’m just glad that I get to know another side of Aoba. It’s just fair, right? Aoba had always known different sides of me that I don’t even know exist in myself.”

“That’s the only thing he’s good at,” Aoba grumbled under his breath.

“Huh?”

“I said, that’s all he’s good at. He sees through everyone like it’s natural, but he never knows anything about himself. It’s kind of hilarious, isn’t it?” Aoba ended with a laugh at his own joke.

“I guess that’s pretty cute too.”

With that said, Koujaku ruffled Aoba on the hair, only to be responded by a contentious brushing off of his hand.

“I can’t stand you, I can’t stand the both of you!”

“You’re cute,” Koujaku guffawed. He tried to catch Aoba again but Aoba had shoved a hand against his chest, declaring with his eyes that there’s something else that he wanted to talk about.

“So what exactly is your intention?” Koujaku asked again. He had unwinded himself with this Aoba now. It’s very unlike the experience he had with his nightmare the last time. This Aoba was a different Aoba, but he’s still very much Aoba and it helped Koujaku greatly in finding ways to interact with him.

“I’m done,” Aoba said. He stood up, carrying his body off Koujaku’s body, but was stopped when Koujaku grasped onto his wrist.

“Are you sure?” Koujaku asked.

The air around them became tense all of a sudden; silence stretched between them as time passed. And when one of them finally made a move, it was Aoba, who’d inched towards Koujaku and kissed him on the lips. Just a gentle peck; nothing more.

“I’m done,” he repeated. With that said, he finally got himself off Koujaku’s body, sitting by Koujaku’s side and leaned his head against Koujaku’s shoulder.

Koujaku was left in a momentary shock. All that he could do was reminiscing on what had just happened, being utterly confused, and only coming back to himself when Aoba moved again. He turned around to look at him, finding himself staring at the usual Aoba he knew, who was rubbing his eyes and staring blearily at Koujaku.

“Sorry, I fell asleep. What time is it now?” he said, scrambling around to find his Coil.

_Wait, so that wasn’t a dream?_

He watched as Aoba check his Coil, grouching about having to head out to buy stuff for dinner.

“Why are you spacing out?” Aoba frowned, flicking a finger against Koujaku’s forehead as he did.

“Oh… o-oh, nothing. Sorry, was thinking about some stuff.”

“You aren’t hiding things from me again, aren’t you?” Aoba came closer, as if trying to find the truth from Koujaku’s eyes.

“Not really,” Koujaku smiled. “You mentioned something about having to buy things for dinner? Let’s go together then.”

“Huh? Is that okay? I’m supposed to be the one to cook dinner today.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Koujaku brushed off as he raised himself off the bed. “I need a breathe of fresh air too.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Aoba asked with a deeper frown as he watched Koujaku walk towards the direction of the bathroom.

Koujaku halted his steps, considering what had just happened, and was reminded of what had both he and Aoba gone through throughout the years they ended up together. At long last, he turned around, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe heading towards the bathroom.

“I’m fine. Actually, there’s something I need to ask you later.”

“Why not now?” Aoba asked instead.

“Later,” Koujaku waved his hand. “I’ll be done soon. Don’t go out before me, okay?”

And as he closed the door behind him, he felt a relief spread from his insides, as if a stone had been lifted off his chest. He released a heavy sigh, back leaning against the door and looking up at the wooden ceiling of his bathroom.

“I guess this is the end, huh?”

 

* * *

 

“ _` I never believe in happily ever after, nor do I believe that a person like me deserves it. But you told me otherwise. You told me that happiness could be more than just being happy, that it could also be the small things in our life, like the mere existence of something by our side. It could also be gratitude. I am thankful for being able to meet you, and now, being able to stay by your side. This is my last confession, Aoba. I vow to be more than just the man you think I am, but also the man that’s true to myself, and true to you. That’s why, let me take your hand, and walk your journey to the end with you. This will be my happily ever after. **You**.` _ ”

 

They never wanted things to be too complicated; just being able to be by each other’s side, simply being able to be in each other’s life was already more than enough for them. Yet, when Koujaku brought up the idea, five years after they’d ended up together, it felt natural that things would eventually progress towards this direction. There wasn’t a need for a yes or a no; Aoba’s mere reaction was more than enough to give Koujaku the answer he was looking for. No consideration was needed, it just felt instinctive for them to acknowledge each other as the sole person they wanted to spend the rest of their life with.

And still, they never wanted anything that’s a wheels within the wheels -- simply having friends and family gathering in one place, witnessing them coming together was more than enough for them.

They were both simple persons, even though ‘simple’ might not be the word they would use to describe who they really were, who the _other_ selves in them really were. But at the end of the day, they were undeniably the ones holding responsibility to how they brought themselves together.

And that was precisely how Koujaku had come to this very decision.

The last time he met an Aoba he never knew, he understood within him that everything had finally come to an end, that all Aobas that he should’ve known had confronted him. Now what’s left was for Aoba to continue progressing and continue becoming into a person that Koujaku would be delighted to oversee the progress of it.

In the midst of the preparation for their big day, both Koujaku and Aoba took days off their schedule and returned to mainland, finding themselves in front of Koujaku mother’s grave all over again. But this time, the gloomy mood was no longer present in between them. In its place was a lighthearted air, flowing with the lightness of the air as they held hands, both staring at the grave.

“Mother,” Koujaku broke the silence. “We’re back.”

“Hi, Aunty,” Aoba followed suit.

“We have something we need to tell you,” Koujaku dived right into the matter, grasping hard on Aoba’s hand at the same time. With a pause, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “We’re getting married.”

Aoba smiled brighter. Returning Koujaku’s grip with a firm one of his own, he nodded.

“Aun-- or rather, mother.” He could feel Koujaku jolting a tad in response to his word. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your son.”

“That sounds more like something I should say,” Koujaku interrupted.

“Did you say something? I didn’t catch it,” Aoba heightened his tone.

“Nothing,” Koujaku chuckled, one hand scratching the back of his head.

Then, Aoba crouched, coming closer to the grave as he wiped dirt and dust off the surface of it then traced the carved name on the marble material with two fingers.

“We hope you’d be able to witness the moment but we also thought that perhaps we could do it for you in a more personal way.”

“So we thought,” Koujaku had come to join Aoba by his side, continuing Aoba’s words for him. “That we could have a simple ceremony here before our official one back in Midorijima.”

They looked at each other, giving each other a knowing nod with an exchanged smile.

They wouldn’t know if Koujaku’s mother would actually be seeing this but the thought of leaving her out in the cold while they welcomed one of the most important days in their life wasn’t something that could sit well in their minds. Even when it’s simple, even if it all seemed pointless, it was still something both of them had set their mind into doing.

Aoba knew that Koujaku’s mother was an irreplaceable existence in his life, perhaps in a level that’s even higher than Aoba himself. Koujaku’s mother was special. He’d met her a few times when he was small, and she’d always been the gentle and kind mother whom Aoba had always reminded of his own. Since young, he’d already seen Koujaku’s mother like his own, even when he’d never realized it himself until now.

Once they settled all their offerings on the grave, they took a few steps back, hands in each other, and allowing a momentary silence to slip in, giving them the peace of mind they sought for before they continued with doing what they wanted to do.

“Let’s continue,” Aoba said at long last, after what seemed like an hour. Merely nodding, Koujaku took in another deep breath before he started speaking.

“On this faithful day, under the blessing and witness of you, I’d like to pronounce my vow to take Seragaki Aoba as my lifelong partner. I vow to make him happy, make him laugh, and to always be there for him. I vow to stay true to myself and to give myself to him, my heart, my soul, everything. I humbly give him all that I am and pray that he takes me as I am and will teach me how to love him. Today, in front of a witness that is nothing but important in my life, I vow to love him not only for what he is, but also for what he makes me. Thank you for accepting me into your life, and allowing me to be your lifelong partner.”

Koujaku ended by lifting Aoba’s hand up and kissing the back of it before he looked up, meeting gaze with Aoba, then nodding for him to continue.

Aoba’s voice was just a tad hoarse when he started speaking. Koujaku could see his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down before he started again, his gaze gleamed with firm determination, his smile elegant and beautiful.

“On this faithful day, under the blessing and witness of you, I’d like to pronounce my vow to Koujaku, taking him as my lifelong partner.”

He paused again, eyes wavering with hinting layer of dampness as he clutched harder onto Koujaku’s hand. Koujaku had his gaze remained firm on Aoba’s expression, waiting patiently for him to continue and supporting him in a silent way all at the same time.

“I vow not only to listen, but to hear, not only to be honest, but to trust, and not only to love, but to be loved. I vow to hold onto your hand and never letting it go, regardless of what is to happen now and in the future. You are my best friend, my hero, and now, a person I vow to look after for the rest of my life. I cannot promise you all happiness, all perfections, all sunshines or all smiles. I cannot promise you that I can fight the monster that you have been fighting all by yourself. I cannot promise you that I will always do what is right, never be angry, or never let clouds darken our doors. But I can promise you that we will be together whatever life will bring us. I promise to always be there for you and that the vow I make today, in front of the person who had brought you into this world, who had brought you to me, that I will return to you no matter what is to happen.”

Aoba ended with a soft sigh. Giving Koujaku another smile, he tiptoed, kissing Koujaku lightly on the lips, one which Koujaku returned. After a few seconds with their lips pressed against each other, they pulled themselves off, then turning around to face the grave again.

“Thank you for everything you have done for me, mother,” Koujaku said, hoarseness vivid in his voice. “Please don’t worry about me. I’m happy now, I really am.”

It’s obvious that Aoba was already at the verge of tears at this point. Sniffing quietly, he cleared his throat.

“Thank you for bringing Koujaku to me, mother,” he said. “I’ll make sure that he’s worth it.”

Regardless of who they are, or what they are, the bond both Koujaku and Aoba shared was something that was beyond every sensation they thought existed. It was a bond that was built upon more than just trust, but something more, something that wasn’t what words can describe.

They’d gone through many things, and they knew that they’d go through more in the future.

And they’re more than ready for it; for they aren’t just living for themselves, but for each other now.

That was the first and last promise they’d made to each other, after all.

  



End file.
